


You and I (everything in red)

by nannyslf



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-06-30
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nannyslf/pseuds/nannyslf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Zayn and Harry are intellectual snobs and platonic in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I (everything in red)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the typos and hope you enjoy it. :)

Zayn Malik held two steamy cups of Cappuccino from Starbucks. He was off to Harry’s house for an evening with poetry and music. Harry Styles. Harry Edward Styles. Was it weird that his name sounded exactly like music to Zayn’s ear? He often wondered about that. About the fact that he was completely and undoubtedly in love with Harry Styles. It was something so large and intense that it took his breath away sometimes. He was in love, that feeling that so many writers talked about, now — and for a long time actually —, that feeling belonged to him. He congratulated it, adored it, and dedicated all his thoughts and heart to it. That preciousness inside his soul was his to keep, to forever hold Harry inside of him, even if the other lad was totally unaware of it.  


It was two o’clock when he arrived at Harry’s loft. It was a huge spacious place filled with vintage furniture, millions of books, records and movies. Art was a passion they both shared. It has been like this since they first met at high school, six years ago. Now, they were in the second year of college and nothing has changed. Everyday Harry and Zayn did something together, it didn’t really matter what. It could be running, studying, sharing a meal, reading to each other, lot of things really. And religiously every saturday the met in Harry’s house to discuss their latest readings, findings in music or movies. Zayn loved it. All of it. Because, he loved Harry and everything that involved him.  


One time Zayn’s sister asked him if it was weird to love someone like this. He reflected about question for a while before saying yes. It was definitely weird not to take his decisions based on himself, but always on someone else. Always on Harry. It was like he was born with this one propose, to adore this human being with everything he got and never diverge from that. He choose his college the same as Harry’s, it didn’t even matter if he was accepted in Columbia, if Harry was going to NYU so was he. The same about moving from his house in London to million miles away on the West Village in NYC. There were a lot of changes in Zayn’s life in the last six years, all because of Harry Styles.

— Hey, Zainy! — Harry said with a grin. He was beautiful as usual, all dimples, green eyes and curls.  
Zayn took a moment to breathe when hazel eyes met green heavenly ones.  
— ‘Morning, Haz.  
— Come inside, it’s freezing out there.  


It was January and the winter in New York was taking its tool. The city was covered in white and the view was amazing. Yet, Harry much preferred the summer and the sun, contrary to Zayn who was a fan of the cold weather.  
Inside Harry’s loft everything was warm and cozy, and despite the fact that both the fireplace and the heater was on, Zayn still believed that it was because of Harry. Many of the blessings in the world he would attribute to the curly haired boy.  


— What are we talking about today?  
— Well, I’m kind of fixed on romance in books. I thought maybe we could talk about it. Like, our favorite quotes, characters, plots and stuff.  
— Sounds great. — Zayn replied with a sweet smile. All these years he collected many loving quotes who reminded him of Harry.  
The both sat in Harry’s gigantic couch and the green eyed boy grabbed a pile of books who resided on the floor up to his lap.  
— I finished Lolita. I loved it.

Zayn frowned at Harry. He loved Lolita too, but the book gave him this bittersweet taste he did not like. It reminded him too much of how he felt about Harry sometimes, especially when he thought about the fact that his friend would never love him like that. He was stuck in perpetual misery. 

— Even though is not a popular opinion, I kind of like Humbert Humbert. I felt sorry for him. — Zayn said with a sad smile.  
— He was pathetic. But Dolly was a very good character.  


It wasn’t unusual for the guys to disagree. They would often drive into different directions. One example: Zayn preferred books, as for Harry he liked movies much better. Music was their common ground. Yet, those diversions made their interaction unique.  


— She broke his heart.  
— He stole her innocence.  
— She was corrupted from the start. — Zayn argued back.  
— But, He took her for everything Zayn. Be reasonable in this, he fucked up everything between them.  
— Perhaps you’re right.  
— Like always. — Harry said with a cocky smirk. Zayn smacked him on the arm, he whined.  
— I’d like to quote you something.  


It didn’t really matter if what Zayn’s was about to say was in the book. In his head, the words come out of his heart.  


— I looked and looked at her, and I knew, as clear as I know that I will die, that I loved her more than anything I have ever seen or imagined on earth, or hoped for anywhere else.

There was a moment after Zayn’s words where hazel and heavenly green met again. This time it was profound and for a second, infinite. The short gap beheld so many words and unspeakable feelings that filled the air around them. In one minute he even thought that Harry understood it, the hidden meaning in his words. But, he didn’t and Zayn knew that and the pain of that knowledge felt a lot like crashing after a free fall. Maybe, because it was exactly it. Crashing and burning, inside of him. His lungs were pleading for air, but Zayn had none. Harry sucked it all out of him and now he was left with nothing. Like always.

— It was beautiful, Zayn. — Harry whispered. Zayn remained in silence.  


One strange about silences is that it can say so many things. Sometimes, it reveals even more than the actual words. Zayn knew that. This particular lack of words spoke about this small fact — one of the several ordinary things of life — unrequited love. But, not a usual one. It was way bigger than that, it was the kind who could take over the room, the entire world maybe.  


— We need to drink those cappuccinos before they get too cold. — Harry muttered while pointing the two cups on the table before then. He grabbed his own and sipped on it. Zayn did the same.  
— I finished Looking for Alaska. — He finally said.  
— What did you think? — Harry wondered curious.  
— It was a beautiful writing.  
— I thought the same.  
They both smiled. The sweet, understanding, loving smile that friends sometimes share when they realize once again just how alike they are.  
— I’m particular fond about the relationship between Alaska and Pudge.  
— They had something. Alaska holds endless fascination though. — So do you. Zayn added in his mind.  


Zayn remembered how while he was reading the book, the whole time he thought about Harry and how Alaska reminded him of the boy. The green eyes, fierce personality and other things. Especially the fact that people like Harry and Alaska can never be held and their personal enchantment is something the regular people from the earth cannot comprehend.  
Zayn had come to the conclusion that Harry was formed by stardust. And that gave the green eyed boy the kind of spark that often made Zayn want to shut off the lights in the universe, just to see if he could glow in the dark.  


— If people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane. — He said to Harry. He meant it.  
— I thought that was absolutely lovely.  
— It was.

If Harry only knew all the endearing words Zayn had for him. If only.  
Hours passed and they talked about a hundred things. The conversation flowed so easy between them. Whenever he found a cue, Zayn would quote something to Harry. Beautiful words about his true feelings. The green eyed boy never got it. Their relationship was purely intellectual, touching was rare between then and that made Zayn so sick in the inside, sometimes he wondered if this whole thing was some kind of test. Was this about figuring out just how devoted he was to Harry? Because the answer was lot, with everything he got.  
He slept on Harry’s house, in Harry’s bed with Harry. It was a lot of the H word in one sentence, but that filled Zayn’s heart with such joy. In the beginning they were apart on the bed, a few inches between them. But in the morning their legs were intertwined and Harry hold him close, like he needed him. That feeling was better than anything Zayn had ever experimented. Everything in the world was warm, it glowed and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he saw it all in soft red. Perhaps it was love. 

~

He didn’t really know why he was there. Zayn and Harry were on this huge anniversary party of one of their mates from college. The celebration was set on an Upper East Side penthouse. It was an amazing place, filled with beautiful happy people who didn’t seem to care about where they were or the amazing view of the Central Park that the apartment held. But, Zayn noticed it and loved it. 

Harry, like everyone else, was used to it and didn’t pay attention to it either. This was one of his environments, somewhere that he knew how to act and that naturally belonged to him. His parents owned a penthouse bigger than this one a few blocks away and he spent part of his childhood there. Nothing in that apartment amazed him. That would be something that forever impressed Zayn, how Harry was absolutely used to all the luxury and wealth of the world. 

Zayn usually felt shy and cornered in these kinds of situations. He was a just the outsider kid majoring in English with a few close friends while Harry was the social masterful who everyone loved, coursing architecture and playing lacrosse for the school. He was wanted, Zayn was just his shadow and he didn’t mind at all. As long as they are together, nothing else matters. 

Niall — the birthday boy — was good friends with Harry and Zayn liked him. The feeling was mutual, so he got invited to the party, but yet struggled the whole way. He didn’t have anything to wear; his wardrobe consisted in large sweaters and t-shirts, jeans and vans. He even tried really clean up that night (given that Harry looked like a Ralph Lauren model), but it was cold outside, so he put his favorite sloppy brown sweater and to make up for it, his best jeans and cleanest shoes. It wasn’t a great combination, but it was as good as it was going to get.  
Harry, on the other hand, looked stunning. He was wearing one of his many designer blazers — That night it was a grey one signed by Hugo Boss —, a shirt from the newest winter line of John Varvatos and his preferred Seven for All Mankind jeans. It was like hanging with a huge fashion model, really. He looked handsome and Zayn knew it. More important was that he recognized that Harry was beautiful independent from all these clothes. He simply was. It was something that came from his inside out. The way he laughed when something was too crazy, when he cried in the middle of a touching movie, how he was a complete fool for cats, the bliss in his eyes while cooking or listening to a song. There were so many little things. 

The girls picked up on the fact that Harry was beautiful and available. They were surrounding him, giving him drinks and whispering in his ear. Zayn was mad, seeing the world red with fury. Harry smiled at them, his dimples making them sigh. It was pathetic and drove Zayn crazy. He knew that his best friend would always attract female attention and he also was aware of the fact that Harry always loved being the center of everything. It was simply a part of him, but Zayn hated it sometimes. Like now, where he was on the corner watching the person he loved touch girls, smile for them, being all flirty and sexy. So, that was what Zayn would get? He would be totally dedicated to Harry 24/7 so the other boy could break his heart all over again? This happened to them all the time, Harry meeting girls, dating, showing them off to Zayn, making him feel miserable and the cycle would go on… But, it was enough! There was so much he could cry and now he was over! Without thinking twice he stormed out of the party and out of Harry’s life, for good. 

Maybe Zayn was mad when he left the party. But, now he was just sad. It felt like his heart swollen and now it had blown up. There were pieces all over the place and he couldn’t pick up all of them, no way to glue them back together. Only Harry could do this and now Zayn planned to stay away from him. So, the only thing to do was to cry and he did. He cried and cried until it felt like everything inside him was empty. Then, he cried again. 

The tears were hot, infinite and it hurt in his soul. Zayn felt the burning against his skin, running through his face and dropping on his pillow. He didn’t know if minutes or hours passed, but it was a long time. His mind drifted from memory to memory, Harry’s voice, laughter and eyes. All things that mattered so much to him, that felt like home. Now, he was lost. Of course he could go back and act like nothing happened. Except he couldn’t. Not anymore, not when every time Harry brought a girl seemed to be end of the world for Zayn. Not when he had to watch the spectacles of kisses between the one he loved and someone that wasn’t him. Zayn simply could no longer do this. His heart fell off the edge and now there wasn’t a way to recover it. He lost it. He lost everything.

Days passed and he ignored Harry masterfully. Hundred of missed calls, avoiding in the halls and excluded emails. It was best to cut off everything, it would hurt less. That was, of course, a lie. It all hurt the same; it was like losing an irreplaceable part of himself, now he was handicap. He missed Harry and the lack of him was everywhere. Sometimes Zayn would just lay in his bed and stare at the ceiling try to feel nothing. It never worked. His mind would naturally drift back to Harry and all the things he wanted to repress were back. There was no way out, he figured one day. It didn’t matter if Harry was around him or not, it didn’t make any difference that they were no longer friends, he was stuck. Even more than that, he probably would forever be.

Zayn was in his bed, the notebook in his lap played Harry’s favorite movie: Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind. It was beautiful, but always made Zayn a little blue. The way relationships that had everything to work out eventually fade away. Perhaps love wasn’t enough. This was probably the saddest truth in the universe. John Green once said that "True love will triumph in the end —which may or may not be a lie, but if it is a lie, then it’s the most beautiful we have."  
He now knew for fact that it was a lie. It didn’t matter the hours he dedicated to Harry, the unconditional feeling he had for his best friend or the things they shared. Trips, laughs sleepovers, secrets, in the end it was nothing. Just an ephemeral adventure, which gleamed the most in the sun, but now the twilight came and Zayn was alone in the dark.

Somewhere in his house the phone ringed loudly. Zayn didn’t bother to pick up and soon the voicemail picked up the massage. It was Harry.

— Hey… So, it has been a while. Will you ever answer the phone? I miss you. Did I do something? I mean, you won’t even let me talk to you. This whole thing sucks. I just want to see you, I miss your face. Your laughter. Your eyes. Your smile. Your everything, really. I don’t know what I did or how everything got so fucked up, but I need you to come back. Please, please, please. Just come, let’s talk about it. Can we just please meet up and discuss things trough? I… I… — Harry sobbed. Zayn’s heart broke again. — I know I never say it, but you’re important to me. I need you. I do. Call me, okay? It’s Harry, if you haven’t noticed yet.  
The message was over, the house remained in silence for a moment before Zayn’s tears and sobs filled the air.

It was midnight and someone was knocking on his door. What the fuck? Zayn thought while standing up. He was so tired and John Mayer played on his stereo system, Zayn forgot to turn it off when he fell asleep.

— Who is it?  
— It’s Harry. Open up.  
Zayn’s breath suddenly stopped. Everything stopped, except for John Mayer who sung:  


“Love is really nothing  
But a dream that keeps waking me  
For all of my trying, we still end up dying  
How can it be?”  


— I can’t let you come inside, Harry.  
— What the hell? It’s freezing out here, it’s midnight and I’m your fucking best friend! Have you lost your mind?  


Harry was mad and Zayn could tell by the way his voice was raising and getting a bit high pitched. The many little things he learnt over the years about Harry’s personality could fill a book now.  


— Try to understand, we can’t be together anymore.  
— Zayn! Stop this bullshit and let me in now! — Harry shouted.  
It took a few minutes before Zayn finally opened up the door.  
— Hi… I thought you were going to let me out in the cold.  
— So did I… — Zayn whispered, avoiding Harry’s face. He closed the door and walked pass the green eyed boy and into the kitchen.  
— Do you want some tea?  
— Of course.  
The remained in quietness while Zayn made them apple flavored tea. Harry had snowflakes in his hair, lashes and cheekbone; the view of that was adorable and for a moment it was like coming back to paradise.  
— It’s done. — Zayn said and handed the cup to the other lad.

Harry tasted and then hummed in satisfaction. Zayn always knew how to make his tea.

— It’s delicious.

They drank the beverages and nothing was said. As soon as Harry finished his, he turned and faced Zayn. Three simple words came out of his mouth:

— I missed you.

What would Zayn say? He missed his best friend, obviously, with every fiber in his body. But that couldn’t be said. Nothing could, because this situation is irreversible.

— Aren’t going to say anything? What’s happening Zayn? We’ve been friends for six years now, you can tell me anything.

No, I can’t.

— Harry, I’m tired. Let’s just sleep okay, you can go home tomorrow.

As Zayn walked away, a furious Harry held his arm and pushed him back. Now, their face was inches away and broken hazel eyes chokingly met hellish green ones.

— Don’t you ever walk away from me. — Harry murmured deadly.

Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me  
‘Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see  
I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe  
There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me

John Mayer’s words fit perfectly to the situation.

— Harry, let me go.  
— I can’t. I won’t. — He whispered in Zayn’s cheek. His lips touching the golden boy’s ever so lightly.

The whole world was drowned in pure silence. The boys’ breaths were mixed in one and everything felt so slow and delicious. It reminded Zayn of so many moments he would only ever see in movies. The perfection of two people who adored each other badly and were so involved into their own atmosphere that the universe itself seemed to resume in the short gap of their breaths.

— I love you. — Zayn said without thinking.  
— I love you too. — Harry replied and then inclined himself to Zayn. Their lips were so close and if only Zayn came to him.  
— Don’t do this.  
— What?  
— Harry, we need to be apart. I don’t want us to be close again.  
— Zayn, I don’t understand. We’re best friends. You love me, I know. Why are you doing this?  
Because you don’t want me. You pretend to, but you really don’t and I know.  
— I don’t think it’s wise for us to be friends anymore.  
— What are you saying?  
— I’m saying that we should go to bed now.

He let go of the curly haired boy, but not before seeing his green eyes becoming immersed with water.

Zayn turned off the music and laid in his bed, it didn’t take long for Harry to join him. Side by side and yet so far apart. How did they get into this situation? Everything was so confuse. He seriously doubted that he could fall asleep with the boy of his dreams so next to him.

He didn’t really know when he passed out, but now it was morning and Harry — like the octopus he was — was all over him. Arms and legs holding Zayn like a life guard. It still felt good, even if he was heartbroken, lost and scared, whenever Harry was around him, the world seemed like a perfect place.

The reasonable thing to do was to let go, but knowing that their ways were about to be parted, Zayn figured that he could enjoy these last moments. There was something unique about the beginning of morning where the world remained in silence and only the pure sound of life manifested. He realized then that the only sound he would ever want to hear was Harry’s heartbeat. It took him to a place that looked so much like paradise with soft blue skies and lush green fields that resembled a lot of Harry’s eyes, Zayn could stay there forever starring at the clouds while holding hands with the boy he loved.

Fantasies of a delusional heartbroken man. Maybe Zayn could write a book with that title and the whole thing would consist of paragraphs and paragraphs describing Harry’s beauty — a precious one that made him feel like staring at the world’s greatest master piece.

Sometimes Zayn wished he could draw, so that he could portrait those pink lips, adorable dimples and dreamy-devilish eyes. Being in love with someone was something that made him so insane, with the daydreams, desires and profound longings. Zayn was one of these people who were too intense with just about everything, his dedications to the things he adored where infinite and now he was leaving the thing he wanted the most in the universe. It felt a lot like dying and constantly made him want to cry until an ocean was formed so he could sink on it. He was dramatic and was pretty aware of that, in the adult world when a relationship didn’t work out, you shake up and move on, no time for the endless pain so characteristic of the adolescents. He despised that. If being a grown up meant to lie and disguise all his feelings, then Zayn would be a child forever, like the Little Prince.

— A penny for your thoughts. — Harry said with a husky voice, he had just woken up.

Zayn stared him for a moment. What would he say? Hey, my feelings for you are making me delusional? That wasn’t a good phrase.

— We should have breakfast.  
— I want to stay here. With you. — Harry replied, holding on tighter.  
— Eventually we’ll have to get out of bed.  
— Then we’ll have a marvelous day together.  
— Harry, we talked about this before. We can’t be friends.  
— Again with these nonsense?  
— It isn’t nonsense, it’s how I feel.  
— Then stop feeling it, because it’s hurting me.

The brutal honesty in Harry’s words felt like a punch in the stomach. What would he say back? There was nothing to justify his behavior other than: You don’t love me the way I love you, so I’m leaving you.  
It was unfair to Harry and just now he realized that. But, they were at the point of no return and Zayn wouldn’t go back now.

— I’m sorry, Haz. It’s just the way things are now.  
— Well, fuck you. — Harry said, getting out of bed and leaving the room in a storm.  
Zayn got up too and went after him.  
— So, I don’t deserve you friendship anymore? Is that it?

There were tears in Harry’s eyes.

— It’s not like that at all.  
— Then, what it is like?  
— I love you, Harry and that’s why we can’t be friends anymore.  
— I don’t understand.  
— I know and it’s better this way. Now, please, leave.

And so he left. For that moment on, Zayn’s world emerged into darkness.

~

Harry’s life was a blue — with sadness. He still had a busy social life, lots of friends and all the perks of being the popular kid on campus. But nothing really mattered. He missed Zayn, more than he ever thought it was possible. He missed his corky ways, his hysterical laughter and the way he talked about the books he loved, especially when he quoted something to Harry.

A month has passed now and Harry didn’t know what to do. He kept having these nightmares about Zayn, waking up thinking that he should make things right, but how? His best friend wouldn’t even talk to him. The whole thing was so bad that for hours he would just stare at their old pictures, videos and stuff that reminded him of their friendship. It was pathetic, he was acting like a high school girl after a breakup, but it was inevitable. There were moments where the pain of missing was so bad, that it became physical — with shortness of breath, stomach pain and nausea. How could you feel so much the absence of someone that it hurt in your bones? It was a mystery for Harry. He thought of ways to feel better, but all of them involved talking to Zayn and the other boy refused to, so Harry started writing letters:

Zayn,  
I don’t know what I did and it makes so hard for me to apologize, because what words should I use for something that’s got me completely lost?  
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.  
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you.  
I miss you.

Maybe if I think that enough you’ll start caring and come back to me. Please, come back to me. I need you so much. If I didn’t show it like I should, I’m ready to do everything you want me to, just to show you how very, very much I care.  
Why did you leave me? It hurts so much not to have you here. I’m lost, Zayn. Without you feels like there’s not purpose to anything. You’ve become an addiction and now I’m desperate for you.  
You were my friend and friends don’t abandon each other.  
Come home to me, okay? Just come.  
I’m so fucking mad at you for this.  
I love you, Harry.

He mailed the letters, but there was no answer for them and he highly doubted that Zayn have read any of it. It was fucking dead end and Harry didn’t have a choice of action in these situation. Zayn shouted him off, that was it, the end.

Never, in his entire life, anyone denied Harry. It wasn’t only that he missed Zayn, but the fact that someone didn’t want him anymore. He was no longer wanted. In his head, it didn’t even make sense and the worst part was that the one he loved the most did it to him. After everything that has happened, he often wondered if there was something wrong with him. Was that why Zayn left? Wasn’t he good enough? Harry hated to sound so needy and insecure, but those thoughts wouldn’t leave his mind. The only thing that would make everything worse was if in the end Zayn told him: It’s not you, it’s me.  
Then Harry would have killed himself.

And if all of this wasn’t terrible, his life was a complete mess. Because, seriously, after a six year routine with somebody, how do you manage to get your life together without them? The answer is simple: you don’t. What you do is fall into misery, self pity and disorganization. Of course, Harry still did the ordinary things like study, lacrosse practice and college. But, his free time was crazy. No one to discuss books, movies and music with him. He even tried to do it with Louis and Niall, but it didn’t work, nobody could understand his point of view and taste like Zayn. He dated many girls, but somewhere along the way he realized that he was looking for Zayn in all of them and from there on it was totally disappointing. The thing is that there’s only one Zayn Malik in the world and that was the one person Harry truly wanted.

Harry was a spoiled child, he wanted things and he wanted them to come in the moment he desired. Now, he needed Zayn to come and tell him all the things he needed to hear. Zayn should appear in his door and say that he’d never leave him again, that he would stay by his side forever and ever, that things were going to be okay and that he only loved Harry.

Why don’t you do it, Zainy? I need you to do it so much.

Wishful thinking wasn’t one of Harry’s expertises, because in his life everything happened accordingly to his plans, but every night and whenever he saw a falling star he wished for Zayn to come back. Maybe, eventually it would work and that’s all he could hope for.

Louis’s birthday was in three days and Harry knew Zayn would be there. What he didn’t know was how that make him feel. He was looking forward to it, obviously, but once it happened, how would he act? Was he going yell at Zayn? Hug him? Punch him? And last, but not least, kiss him? Only time would tell.

It was a huge house party. Music shouted into people’s ears, making them crazier than they already were with all the buzz. Drinks and pizza were being served, pretty girls danced like it was the end of the world and everyone was so happy without any reason. A world of futilities. But, Louis was content and that was the only thing that mattered to Harry.

— The party is amazing, mate.  
— I know right?! Behold the kingdom of Tomlinson!  
— God, you’re so full of yourself. — Harry whined joking.  
— You love me, Styles. Oh, look, there’s your boo. — He pointed Zayn who was just getting into the house.  
— He’s not my boo.  
— Go get him! — Harry looked at him plenty annoyed; he hated how Louis always seemed to make a joke out of this situation.  
— He’s coming, Haz. Control yourself not to kiss him. — Louis warned with a smirk.

As Zayn walked towards them, Harry in a burst of fear and something else he couldn’t get a touch of, ran away.  
It took him three shots of tequila to finally find the courage to talk to his ex-best friend. Zayn was now in an exciting conversation with Liam Payne, his apparently new bestie. Jealousy took over Harry, making his eyes even greener. Was it just him or was the world completely immersed in red?

— Excuse me, I need to talk to you. — He said rudely, pushing Zayn by his arm away from Liam.  
— What are you doing?  
Harry ignored him and continued to pull the boy roughly until he found an empty bedroom. He locked the door behind them.  
— Harry, what the fuck?  
— Shut up. — He ordered and then pushed Zayn against the wall with anger.  
— Let me go, Harry, now.  
— I won’t, you’ll have to listen to me. You fucking bastard, do you realize what you did to me?  
— Are drunk?  
— Fuck you, Zayn. You ruined me. — From pure rage to sadness in a second, that was just Harry.

Until that moment where Harry was about to cry, Zayn hadn’t realize just how close they were. He could see the tears forming in that green ocean that was Harry’s eyes. The pain hit him all at once.

— Don’t cry, Haz. — He pleaded in a whisper.  
— Why do you care?  
— Because… I do. And you know it. Please, don’t be like this.  
— Don’t be like what, Zayn? You left me.  
— I… I didn’t…  
Rage was back into Harry’s humor again, he was pushing Zayn even harder against the wall now.  
— You didn’t what? You didn’t mean to do it? Don’t lie to me.  
— I’m not lying. — Zayn shouted back.  
— Fuck you. Really, just fuck you. You’re liar, you said you loved me and then you abandoned me. I needed you. — Now the tears were free falling in his face, leave a hot trace behind them. Slowly, Zayn stopped them with his thump, making soft patterns in the porcelain skin of the one he adored.  
— I never lied about this. I always loved you.  
— But then you stopped! — Harry screamed in exasperation. Now, he was sobbing.  
— I didn’t.  
— Yes, you did and then you left me. You made me cry and cry… And now, look at me. I’m an idiot. I don’t deserve you, but you promised me that no matter what happened, we would always be together… Even if I wasn’t enough, you shouldn’t leave me alone, Zayn…  
— Harry.

Both of them were crying, their face inches away and their pain intertwining. This time hazel and green found a place together in misery and heartbreak.

— I love you. I didn’t mean to break your heart, but…  
— But what? — He punched Zayn in the chest. — What? You stopped talking to me without any explanation, avoided me for days like I was a bug in your ear, acted like I was invisible and now you want me to believe that you love me? Well, fuck you and your twisted love.

Now, Harry wasn’t the only one mad in the room.

— Are you fucking stupid? Did you forget everything? Before this happened, I was the most loyal person to you in your life, Harry. The sun rose and set in you. I did everything for you; I left my country for you because I loved you more than anything in this world. You were my person, the one I wanted to be with everyday, share things, everything.  
— Why did I stop being your person then? — He asked between sobs.  
— Because I wasn’t yours.

The truth hit Harry, was Zayn in love with him? How could he not see that? All the signs were there, the way he behaved towards Harry, completely faithful and how he hated each and every one of his girlfriends….

Oh my God, how could I have been so stupid?

— Zayn, you are my person. You always have been and always will.  
— No, I’m not. This time, I’m asking you not to lie to me.  
— I’m in love with you, jerk. All days of your absence killed me; I need you to come home to me.

Zayn stared him with disbelief and Harry simply kissed him. It was a kiss filled with desire, fury, need and pure love. His hands were pulling Zayn’s hair, feeling the softness of it while the other boy scratched his nape.

— This is too good. — Zayn murmured between pecks. It didn’t take much for Harry’s lips to spread all over his face and neck, with love bites and hickeys.  
— Are you marking me, Styles?  
— Of course, you’re mine. — He whispered into Zayn’s ear and the boy shivered.  
— As much as I love to hear these words out of your mouth, I think we should leave this place.  
— Why? — Harry asked as he pulled Zayn’s shirt sleeve down to expose his golden left shoulder.  
— Because you’re little drunk and I much rather make out with you in your bed.  
— I’m not drunk, I’m excited. But the sound of you and me in my bed it’s very tempting. Let’s go.  
As the two valentines walked out of the house and into the dark, the world seemed to glow a little brighter.

~

Zayn was laid lazily in bed, loving the feel of the white sheets on him after a good night of sex. Harry was walking towards him with a tray of breakfast.  
Breakfast in bed, what a dedicated boyfriend he had!

— Good morning, baby.  
— Hey, boyfriend! — Zayn said with a wide grin.

Harry seated by his side, handing him the tray. It had Zayn’s favorite: coffee, orange juice, French toasts and chocolate muffin.

— Are going to keep calling me boyfriend? It’s been a month now!  
— You are my boyfriend, what else do you want me to call you? — He wondered between bites of the muffin.  
— I don’t know… Maybe Haz or darling, baby is nice.  
— But you call me baby. —Zayn replied with a pout.  
— We can call each other like that. — He uttered while feeding his baby with French toast.  
— No, we should have different nicknames for each other. How do you feel about lover?

Harry blushed immediately, that was an embarrassing nickname.

— No way! It’s weird, Zayn!  
— But I like it, lover! — He spoke stubbornly.  
— Baby, don’t get crazy okay? — Harry muttered and slowly inclined towards his valentine, kissing his nose, cheeks and finally his pout.  
— You taste like butter and chocolate.  
— You taste like heaven.

Then the kiss deepened and they made history in the sheets all over again.


End file.
